She chained her in a cavern frore;
She set a sign upon the door.
The key into the ocean fell:
The maid forgot the lamp as well.

She waited for the days of spring;
Year by year did seven die,
And every year one passed her by.

She waited thro' the winter's cold,
And her tresses, waiting too,
Recalled the light that once they knew.

They sought the light, they found it out,
Crept thro' the rocks and round about,
And lit the rocks with all their gold.

He comes at eve that passed of old;
Amazed at the wondrous sight,
He does not dare approach the light.

He deems it is a mystic sign,
Or else a spring that gushes gold,
Or angels at their sport divine:
He turns, and passes as of old.